Chapter 16
For the past few days, I've noticed Owen looking at me differently, and if I said it bothered me, I'd be lying.
I actually like it—I feel good being around them.
I know it's not right, since he's the one who put my father in prison.
I should hate him. But living with him every day and getting to know him, that's becoming harder and harder to do.
I'm in Ellie's room, helping her into her pajamas since it's almost bedtime.
We played in the garden for hours—she loved it, and so did I.
Every day, I fall more in love with this little girl.
She's enchanting. When I first arrived, she and her father barely had any contact, but I managed to change that.
When my father lost my mother, he distanced himself from me too, but I was old enough to understand his pain a little. Ellie, on the other hand, is still a child and needs a lot of affection—something Owen wasn't giving her.
While giving Ellie her bath, I took one too. As it got dark, the air cooled down, and being all wet, I was cold. We went down to the kitchen where dinner was already waiting. I fed the beautiful little girl, who was practically falling asleep over her plate, and I smiled, remembering our day.
“I'm going to put Ellie to bed and do some reading, so good night, everyone.”
I say goodbye to everyone, because taking care of a child is exhausting.
Owen kisses his daughter, and then I carry her upstairs.
We lie down in her bed, and I start telling her a story.
She falls asleep within minutes. I stay there for a while, watching her.
She looks so much like her mother—it must bring back so many memories for Owen.
From what I learned when I started working here, they were always a very happy couple. Owen did everything for his wife, and he clearly loved her deeply. Her pregnancy went smoothly because he made sure of it, so I can understand his pain a little when he lost her.
I don't agree with everything he did, of course, but I understand.
He didn't even get to say goodbye to his wife.
All he was left with was a premature baby to care for and the pain of losing his love.
Everyone expresses grief differently—his way was to do everything in his power to put my father behind bars. And he succeeded.
I'm in my room, already in my nightgown.
It's so hot today that I opted for a short, strappy one.
I pick up my romance novel—the steamy kind.
I love reading these books. I may be a virgin, but I'm not naive, and I have my little toys too.
I got my first vibrator from my friend Arianna.
She always said a happy woman is a woman who orgasms well, and honestly, she's right.
Of course I want to experience sex—it must be wonderful—but I haven't found a guy who's worth it yet. I want my first time to be with someone experienced, someone who can show me just how good it can be.
When I see Owen, I imagine what it would be like to sleep with him, but then I remember everything and the thought fades.
Still, he's a very handsome man—tall, probably six-three, with a well-built frame, a short beard, full red lips, and deep gray eyes you could get lost in.
He's very serious, but I think that's because of his work.
He's a good person, especially when he's dressed in an all-black suit.
I shouldn't be attracted to my boss—it's not right—but I confess I am. Today, seeing him all wet with his shirt clinging to his body made me want to jump him. The room seems to be getting hotter. With the book open in my hands, I'm barely paying attention to what I'm reading.
I glance at the clock—it's almost one in the morning. After thinking about my hot boss, I'm even hotter and thirsty, so I decide to go downstairs for something cold.
I open my bedroom door and look both ways. No one in the hallway. I pass by Ellie's room, open the door, and go to her, stroking her hair. She's sleeping like an angel. I slip out carefully and close the door behind me.
I go down the stairs carefully so I don't make noise.
Even though I'm barefoot, I don't want to wake anyone—especially since I'm wearing such a revealing nightgown.
I reach the kitchen, grab a glass from the cupboard, and fill it with water.
I down it all at once, letting some run down the corner of my mouth and drip onto my chest. It's hot, so I don't mind.
I refill the glass and drink it all again.
I go to the fridge and open it. Even though I had a meal earlier, I didn't eat much, and now I'm hungry. I look inside to see what I can eat, then decide to make a light, healthy sandwich.
I crouch down to grab the cold cuts from the bottom shelf, along with the chicken paté that Mama makes—it's delicious.
Then I go to the cupboard for the bread.
At the counter by the sink, I start preparing my sandwich, slicing the cold cuts and arranging everything on the bread.
When it's ready, I leave it on the plate and go back to the fridge for the juice pitcher.
As I return to the counter, I take a bite of my sandwich. It's amazing.
I pick up the glass and plate and turn to sit at the island when I see a figure and let out a scream. Owen is there, watching me from the shadows. I wonder how long he's been standing there.
He steps out from behind the wall and walks into the kitchen.
“Sorry, I scared you.”
“How long have you been there? I didn't hear you come in.”
“You think you're the only one who sneaks around here at night?”
So he knows I leave my room in the middle of the night, but he's never said anything.
“I don't want to wake anyone, so I come down barefoot to avoid making noise.”
“To answer your question, long enough to see plenty.”
I freeze with the sandwich halfway to my mouth and look at him. Our eyes meet, he starts walking toward me, and I think to myself.
“Don't do this, please, don't come any closer.” And then he stops beside me, takes the sandwich from my hand, sets it back on the plate, and turns me to face him. Now I'm really screwed.